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Chapter 7 - Isolationism (CF)
Kremstag had quickly taken Tubba off the SS Wiffler and transported him to the Kremling ship, where the Kremlings accepted him with open arms. However, Kremstag would not be satisfied merely taking Tubba in without an explanation. He had left him at Byrnt Port almost four weeks ago, and now he found him in a Waffle ship roaming the arctic waters. Tubba told Kremstag how he had barely spent forty minutes in Byrnt Port before being forcibly taken away on the SS Wiffler, likely to Pipe Land in the Mushroom Kingdom to face the law, upon which he would not receive a fair trial and would be jailed... or worse, returned to his brother in Glitzville. The brown Kritter listened to his story with an attentive face, growling when he heard of Tubba being trapped in the hold, before turning away with a thoughtfulness when Tubba was finished. The ship Captain did not tell Tubba what was going through his mind, but Tubba knew he would find out sooner rather than later. Although they were in the arctic, the air temperature was not unlike his hometown, Gusty Gulch, in the wintertime. One of the Kritter chefs told him it was because they had passed into Month Mushroom since Tubba had seen them last. Month Mushroom was the warmest month of the year for the northern hemisphere, the hemisphere all of the known world was located in, and so, the arctic was not as cold as it normally was and had been publicized. The significance of passing into Month Mushroom was minor when it came to the air temperature, but very important for Tubba. That meant that he had turned thirty in the hold of the SS Wiffler. He had had better birthdays, but thirty was significant nonetheless. Thirty had long been considered the age of the transition from a burly, dependent force to becoming a wise advisor for Clubbas, since in ancient times, Clubban lifespans were usually sixty. Since lifespans had risen to seventy-five in the modern era, thirty had less and less importance for the average Clubba. But the royal blood flowing through his veins forced him to recognize the significance of thirty. By thirty, his father had been ruling the Kingdom for eight years. By thirty, his grandfather had already made the first of many military movements. Where was Tubba by thirty? Stranded in the arctic at the bottom of the world. Life aboard the Kremlings' ship lapsed back into the normalcy Tubba had begun to expect since his last voyage with them. Kremstag had retired to his room, a small cozy alcove beneath the steering platform at the bow of the ship, and told no one to bother him. The first mate, Ritonkerous Kramvir, took over the day to day running of the ship. Six days after Kremstag had initially vanished into his room, he met Tubba just behind the prow of the ship. "Quick geography lesson, Tubba." Kremstag said without preamble as he approached, looking out over the prow of the ship ploughing through the dark blue waters. "We're in the arctic now, as you know. You know who have claimed these waters?" Tubba drew up the map of the Mushroom World in his head. The old Clubban waters only expanded to the KMC archipelago - a small collection of islands off the eastern coast of the former Clubba Kingdom, at the intersection of the Koopan, Mushroom, and old Clubban waters. Whereas, Mushroomian waters went as far north as an island that they had quickly declared the northernmost piece of land in the world - True North was the actual name of the island. "The Mushrooms?" Tubba guessed, judging by the position of True North. Kremstag snorted. "The Mushroomians are so narrow-minded. The gall to name a place True North. The gall! Well, no one has officially claimed these waters. That said, the only group ever brave enough to venture up here has been us - the Kremlings. We ''claim this territory, unofficially, because we don't want the other Kingdoms up here yet. We won't be able to win a fight, not with Alm as our leader." The Kritter turned his tail to Tubba, calling out to one of the Kritters behind him who was managing the frontal sail. "Barblar! How close are we to Kremvard?" "Another week of travel!" Barblar, a heavily scarred red Kritter called back to his captain. Kremstag nodded, his hat shaking on his head, and then turned back to Tubba, the dipping sun framing the scars on his snout with a red aura. "You know what Kremvard is?" Tubba shook his head. He had heard of True North, but a place known as "Kremvard..." he had never heard of anything of the sort. "That's because we Kremlings believe that we're the only ones who've found it." Kremstag grunted. Behind him, the Kritters began to stop their daily work and stare at their captain. Some eyes were boiling with fury, others were perplexed, and still others were understanding. "You know where the Waffle Islands are?" "Yeah, they're those islands to the northwest of the Waffle Kingdom, and the end of the Wafflian waters, no? About the same latitude as True North?" Tubba asked, glancing over Kremstag's well-muscled shoulder at the other Kritters. Ritonkerous was now shooting sharp, searching looks at any Kritter who dared to take a step forward - and there were quite a few. "Right." Kremstag nodded approvingly. "North of that, in the unclaimed arctic waters, is a place known as Kremvard. It's the TRUE northernmost point in the Mushroom World. We've built a little civilization there in the past fifteen years. Since we're not as technologically advanced as the rest of the world, it gives us a sort of tactical advantage. If nothing else, a placebo." "How has this place not been found from space?!" Tubba asked incredulously - the Mushroom World had advanced exponentially in the past century, and space travel had become common and almost effortless in the larger Kingdoms of the world. Kremstag gave a non-committal shrug. "I've never been to space myself. Rool was the most powerful Kritter ever to live, and he never once saw a picture of space. They're intellectual advances the other Kingdoms don't want to concede to us. We're too burly... they fear that if we have brains to go alongside our brawn, we will annihilate them. Which would probably happen." Kremstag glanced over his shoulder to the few advancing Kritters behind him. "There are those who would prefer I didn't tell you this." "Why ''are ''you telling me this?" Tubba inquired, unconsciously bracing his muscles and Karubba's club, should the Kritters who were clearly displeased with their Captain decide to cause trouble. Kremstag had been well-meaning, and had never seen Tubba as a fugitive - he had listened and made judgements on his own, and they had fostered a bit of trust in their times together. Still, conceding one of the Kremling Islands' greatest secrets, regardless of how much Kremstag trusted Tubba, was a stretch. Bowing his head and closing his eyes, Kremstag brought a brown-scaled hand to his chin. "You're going to hide there, Tubba." "Me? Hide?!" Tubba snarled, outraged. "I'm not a Cloansar-forsaken coward to just mosey up to the safest corner of the world and run from the law! You ''know ''my mission! That can't be achieved in the most isolated corner of the globe! I refuse to go there." Tubba spat out the words as fast as he could, watching Kremstag's expression turn from approving to furious. Opening his mouth so that the sun glinted menacingly off his sharp carnivore teeth, Kremstag shot back: "You can't win your mission if you're in jail, Tubba! You know how much of a struggle I had to go through to even ''tell ''you about Kremvard? You're staying in Kremvard for a few weeks, Tubba. That's final." Without waiting for a response, Kremstag turned away from Tubba, pushing his way through the crowd of Kritters behind him. "Get back to work!" Their Captain snarled, before storming into the alcove below the deck where the steering wheel was. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse, but Tubba was hardly aware of the glances coming his way. He was glaring at the door where Kremstag had vanished, but was finding it more and more difficult to be furious at the Kritter who clearly just wanted the best for Tubba. ''Kremvard it is. Come what may.